


even heroes have the right to bleed

by elsanoelle



Series: let me go home [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-Avengers4, Post-Infinity War, Superhusbands, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 02:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14802533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsanoelle/pseuds/elsanoelle
Summary: Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Tony took sight of his life.He had literally taken a page out of Clint’s book; he build a farm and moved there permanently once he finally decided and officially retired from the superhero business.





	even heroes have the right to bleed

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic ever, please be kind :)

It was mid autumn, the air was cool and the sun rose later that morning than it did yesterday.

The air was thick and unusually misty today.

With all the curtains drawn shut and the embers from last night’s fireplace still burning its last breath, the quaint window panes of the modest home grew foggy. The smell of oak wood filled the living room where the expensive yet vintage furniture sat, with the evidence of last night’s play time scattered across the soft carpet.

Toys were strewn haphazardly everywhere.

A red fire engine on the broad mahogany dinner table led the chaos in the silent cottage. It was the most modern piece of technology in the otherwise humble abode, mainly because it was completely taken apart - the chassis stripped to its bare bones to fit electromagnetic strips, the plastic tyres were being modified to be retractable and the engine bonnet now housed a mini reactor-like power source. 

More likely than anything, this fire engine was going to take flight like a Quinjet. Surely anything heavily modified with miniaturised rocket powered blasters shouldn’t qualify as an average four year old’s toy.

Then again, the average four year old did not have Tony Stark as a parent to give the modifications a personal touch.

The staircase soon creaked to the footsteps of the retired billionaire scientist as he descended from the bedroom, carrying baby Peter. Tony held his son close as the infant curled in his embrace, still half asleep. Peter was clearly not interested to start the day, nestling into his father’s chest for warmth. Tony however had other reasons to wake up earlier than usual that day.

It was his birthday.

Since the present Tony Stark no longer lived in the city where AIs handled and governed the household, i.e starting the coffee at their wake or controlling the temperature to their comfort and liking, his current living quarters would require a small effort on Tony’s part to get the day going.

Tony wanted the day to start as special as he felt, which means he was going to try make breakfast. A scientist he may be, but cooking was never a task he faired very well in. He wasn’t half bad but if all else fails, Tony knew there’s Special K somewhere in the kitchen cabinets.

Boxed cereal made with love. Nobody could fault him for trying, especially on his birthday.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Tony took sight of his life.

He had literally taken a page out of Clint’s book; built a farmhouse and moved there permanently once he finally decided and officially retired from the superhero business. The farm was everything he’d pictured it to be. In the middle of nowhere, far from New York which for unknown reasons seemed to attract more super villains and extra terrestrial beings than any other city on earth.

There was no way Tony would ever consider raising a family, raising Peter, where danger lurked in every corner and would require Tony Stark as IronMan more often than Tony Stark was allowed to be a parent. So Tony was happy here, happy to live in a farm complete with a barn and livestock on 70 acres of land, far away from his former life.

Tony, at that moment, swam in the thought about his decision of giving up Avenging once they had finally won the battle with Thanos. At the very end, despite their best efforts to set things right, the dusting was not completely reversible - the half of humanity that vanished did not all return. It was a devastating outcome all the same for the Avengers who naively expected a clean victory. 

The ones who _did_ reappear had no memory of having ever disappearing into thin air, even after losing years of their lives in a blink of an eye. They returned unsuspectingly to loved ones who were broken from the initial dusting, and the healing process soon became both ways. 

The Avengers who survived the initial dusting and eventually the final battle- Natasha, Clint, Bruce, even Thor who remained on a Earth with nowhere else to return to - they themselves never fully recovered from the trauma either. Even when Laura reappeared with Lila with zero recollection of having disappeared before Clint’s eyes, when TChalla went back to his throne to help rebuild Wakanda and the rest of the healing world.. it was never the same.

The war tore lives apart, and the triumph appeared to have brought back together broken pieces of mankind in jape.

Despite the fall of the mighty Thanos, a lot remained lost. Many carried wounds that bled for a lifetime.

Tony suffered the consequences of the war against the Mad Titan the most, having nearly losing his life having his own armoured tech stabbed across his chest. Tony, if he allowed himself to travel into those dark thoughts, would be overall consumed with guilt- on a personal level, Tony's closest friends he called family, people he swore to protect, they made up the numbers of those who remained lost.

The once-inventor regularly endures panic attacks and nightmares every other night, waking up in cold sweat, barely being able to breathe and muttering the words “I’m sorry” over and over again until he fell asleep exhausted.

It was no secret that he misses Pepper and Happy dearly.

Yet, as he kisses his son’s soft brown hair, Tony has accepted that it was beyond him to undo or reverse what he did not understand to begin with. He did everything that he could, he paid a huge price for it, but life had to go on.

This is his life now, and he devoted it to Peter, promising to be everything his adopted son needed in memory of a young man Tony still feels greatly responsible for.

A young man who went too soon.

Lost in thought, Tony did not realize his breathing had stifled. He had been closing his eyes as he stood by the curtains, facing the large meadow that surrounded the farmhouse. He counts backwards from 100 in his head, finally calms at 79, and opens his eyes to find bright blue eyes blinking at him in earnest.

“Hey buddy” Tony says softly, kissing his son’s forehead. “You gonna wish your old man a happy birthday?”

“‘M sleepy,” Peter answers instead, nuzzling into his father’s chest. “‘M hungry.”

Tony smiles.

He hugs his baby boy closer as he moves from the window to the kitchen aisle. He glances over at the fire engine - makes a mental note to repaint the bonnet in red white and blue- and opens the fridge with one hand, while cradling his son on the other.

_Ah, great._

They’re going to need to milk the cow today.

Tony hated that chore. Farm life or not, there were still things Tony couldn’t bring himself to do. Squeezing udders and dodging vicious hind leg kicks was one of the many. Groaning in silence, Tony softly pushed the door of the fridge when he hears footsteps from upstairs.

He grins to himself. 

Someone was now awake and that someone was going to get the fresh milk.

Just as he inhales a breathe to pass on the milkmaid duty, Tony hears a vehicle pulling into the driveway. He walks to the windows to draw the curtains aside. It was a FedEx delivery van.

Peter was awake now, and seemed eager to go outside. “Who’s that Daddy?”

“Let’s go find out,” Tony replies fondly.

This wasn’t New York. This wasn’t Malibu. There were no bad guys attacking their family home, or, god forbid, his son. Tony no longer walked around with nanites in his chest reactor nor did he need Friday guarding the perimeters of his property for incoming missiles.

Those days are long gone.

Tony walks out the front door confidently. In his stride, he momentarily forgets that he was barefoot, in his bathrobe over a loose sweater and silk pants while Peter was only in his pajamas. Tony instantly regrets not grabbing a blanket for the toddler before stepping out when he felt a gush of cool air.

The delivery man had walked out of the van, clutching a package. Tony recognizes the old man from somewhere --- 

“Are you Tony Stank?”

Tony rolls his eyes. It clicked.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony mutters under his breath, but without heat.

It was the same delivery guy from years ago, who appeared at the compound after the Civil War. Painful memories are associated with that name, Tony Stank, as it reminded Tony of a time where he felt he’d lost everything, and the sense of betrayal was cut even deeper as he read the words on the letter that came with the delivery of a flip phone.

The phone he never got to use.

“Daddy’s got presents!” Peter cheers and wiggles in Tony’s arms, drawing Tony back to, well, the present. Breathe Stark, he tells himself silently. This is your life now. Not wanting to step further into the cold, Tony was relieved to hear footsteps approaching him from the living room.

“Honey? Honey could you please get that?” Tony calls, without looking over his shoulder.

Peter immediately found strength and made grabby hands when he realizes who was coming from behind his Daddy. “Papa Papa! Daddy’s got a present!”

The four year old literally jumps from Tony’s arms into Steve’s chest.

Steve happily receives the blue eyed brunette and hoists Peter into the air before settling the boy on his side, one leg resting on his chiseled abs while the other dangles lazily against his back.

“Careful there Kiddo,” Steve says, before turning his attention to the love of his life.

Tony couldn’t help but smile into the soft kiss that lands on his lips, melting as he sucks the air out of the blond's lungs. “Good morning beloved” he whisperes.

“Happy birthday baby,” Steve replies, lingering momentarily into Tony’s gaze.

They rest their foreheads on each other, eyes closed, breathing into shared air and Tony feels his heart beat faster, but for a good reason this time. Steve was here now, and his presence next to Tony had chased away the painful memories that made its way into Tony’s mind that morning. He instantly feels heaps better, and draws out a long breathe before opening his eyes.

This is his life now.

Steve kisses Tony again, quicker than the last before turning to the old man in a FedEx cap and sunglasses. “What do we have here?” Steve asks, more to Peter than to the man holding the package.

Tony watches Steve walking over into the driveway with their son held protectively, wearing an unbuttoned chequered flannel shirt (sometimes Tony thinks Seve overdoes this whole living on a farm thing down to its fashion sense) over a well loved dark Stark Industries tshirt and sweatpants that accentuated his ass for all it’s glory and for Tony’s eyes only.

He sighs happily as he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame.

They, are his life now.

“Tony Stank?” the delivery man asks again, but sensing that he’s got the right address and recipient, he hands Steve an electronic device with a stylus attached to it, for a signature.

Steve signs on the smooth surface of the device, and takes the parcel with a polite nod.

“It’s from Uncle Rhodey, Petey” he says, handing his son the goods. Peter turns to his Daddy and excitedly waves the parcel with both hands.

”Uncle Rhodey got you a present Daddy look!”

Tony couldn’t help but wave back. His eyes were warming up now.

He’d missed having Rhodey around, his only family left apart from Steve and Peter.

Rhodey’s last visit was Christmas where he’d brought a mountain of presents for little Peter, making him Peter’s Favourite Uncle Ever. Of course Tony was careful not to disclose that most of Peter’s toys had since been reassembled or improved, much like the fire truck that currently rested on the table with mini repulsors on its way to getting fitted. Rhodey would have words if he knew what his innocent gifts were being turned into, but he wouldn’t be surprised.

Steve lowers Peter to the ground and the little man hops happily on the gravel towards his Daddy, who was kneeling down with arms extended.

“Rogers,” Steve calls out to the senior man without preamble, before he starts his way back to the house.

The delivery man, clearly not recognizing Captain America right in front of him, says, “Beg your pardon?”

Steve half turns and smiles at the old man.

“His name. It’s Tony Stank-Rogers.”

Steve did not have to turn around to know his husband was rolling his eyes.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Btw I’m from Australia and it’s currently autumn right now, chilly winds and all. I wouldn’t think Steve and Tony would relocate THAT far but hey! Far away from New York was the idea haha. Plus I wanted to celebrate Tony’s birthday :)
> 
> title from : five for fighting - superman


End file.
